Etch my Skin and Note my Words
by eddiebell69
Summary: Drabble compilation inspired by photos on the Etched in Ink Fest tumblr blog that celebrates the art of stories on inked skin. Rated M for language and some possible lemons. AH/Canon and Non-Canon Pairings
1. Orange Juice

**__Inspiration: bit(dot)ly(space)/**(space)**Ht1t4L**

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><p><em><strong><em><strong>Orange Juice <strong>_**_

"Babe, did you buy some more orange juice?" Edward asks, standing in front of the refrigerator while he waits for my reply.

I bite my lip and look up at him beneath my lashes, shaking my head as I admire the exposed ink on his right arm: a large orange Koi fish that's surrounded by cerulean blue waves.

He just got it done a few weeks ago and I love it. I also love teasing him because he gets worked up whenever I do so- which is my purpose now.

He raises his brow at me and says, "Bella, you're fucking kidding me, right?"

Nodding, a small giggle escapes my mouth. "You look so hot when you get aggressive over your OJ, baby."

"Oh, you haven't seen aggressive yet," he threatens, cracking his knuckles.

I turn in the direction of our living room and run, laughing loudly.

"You are in so much trouble, little girl!" he screeches, chasing after me.


	2. Miracle

**Inspiration: bit(dot)ly(space)/(space)IijjyA**

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><p><strong><em>Miracle<em>**

My baby.

My son.

My miracle child.

They said we couldn't do it; that it was impossible given Alice's heart condition, but we proved them wrong.

_Love conquers all_.

And, as I hold my son in my arms, my heart swells with pride.

_No regrets_, that's an inscription on my skin, across my collarbone in a banner scroll that I got when I turned eighteen and holds true even to this day.

There are no regrets in my life, only accomplishments that have made me the man I am now.

A few tears manage to escape my eyes before my wife speaks. "Jasper, are you finally going to let me hold my son?"

I smile, handing him over to her. "Our son, Ali; Ryan is _our _son."


	3. Metamorphosis

** Inspiration: bit(dot)ly(space)/(space)HJrz7a**

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><p><em><strong>Metamorphosis<strong>_

I look so different, yet I finally feel like myself.

Looking in the mirror, I sigh as I touch my black, pixie hair. For many years, I had wanted to cut it this length, but I hadn't been able to because of my mother.

She _always_ said no.

_Alice, you can't dye your hair black._

_You can't cut it too short because you'll look like a boy._

_You can't wear those clothes because they make you look ugly._

Everything she said was practically the equivalent of: You can't be yourself.

But as I gaze at my reflection, I see the metamorphosis of who I was forced to be and who I have become. My piercings, my clothes and my tattoos, which represent me in small doses, make up the person I have always wanted to be.

And that makes me happy, even though it's heartbreaking that I had to stop talking to my mother to achieve it.


	4. People

**Inspiration: bit(dot)ly(space)/(space)IWOHjr**

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><p><em><strong>People<strong>_

Emmett sat on his wide windowsill, watching the people in the street, three floors down. He sat shirtless, revealing the intricate pieces of art that were etched on his skin, with his legs crossed and a five-hundred-milliliter beer in his hands.

To anyone who saw him, he appeared to be enjoying a moment after work, but that would be a wrong assumption. Emmett had been having a rough week as a new wave of depression pulled him under. He hadn't gone to work, preferring to stay home to avoid everyone's pity.

His coworkers, which were like family to him, knew about his situation and had actually tried to get him help, but he hadn't accepted it.

_I don't have a problem_, he repeated to himself almost daily, yet now, he wasn't so sure.

He observed the people down on the street, coming and going, minding their business, with their own demons haunting them. Nobody besides themselves knew which cross they were bearing and that gave him a small reprieve.

Maybe no one would notice that he was consumed by sadness...

But Emmett didn't want to live in the darkness any longer.

And so he decided that maybe it was finally time to get the help that he knew, deep down, that he needed.


	5. The Key To my Heart

**Inspiration: bit(dot)ly(space)/(space)HIeUVB**

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><p><em><strong>The Key To my Heart<strong>_

"I love you, Bella," Alice says, looking up at me while sliding my shirt over my chest. As she does so, one of my tattoos is exposed; a heart-shaped, skeleton key with a pink ribbon on its top.

I got it in honor of my love for Ali after we formalized our relationship a year ago. The words _follow your heart_ are inscribed alongside the key in a beautiful script, encouraging us to do just that.

Things have not been easy for us, especially because Ali's mom is apprehensive about her sexual preferences, but we're happy together, and that's all that matters.

She places a soft kiss against my inked skin and lowers my panties down my hips as I pull my shirt over my head.

"Me, too," I say, gazing down into her eyes as I straddle her lap at the edge of our bed. "I love you, too, Ali."


	6. Railroads

**Inspiration: bit(dot)ly(space)/(space)ItLjMl & bit(dot)ly(space)/(space)IFE9nn**

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><p><em><strong>Railroads<strong>_

I remember him sitting on the railroad, shirtless, under the blazing sun. He wore black skinny jeans and matching Doc Marten boots. His tanned chest and arms were adorned with various tattoos in plain black ink.

Everything of his was black, even his hair.

Well, everything except his eyes. They are a deep chestnut brown, but you wouldn't be able to notice it because you'd be diverted by his smile.

It's contagious and radiant like the summer sun.

Goddamn it, Jacob Black makes me sound like a girl - which I am, by the way, but I'm not like a typical girl at all.

Nope. I am a badass bitch. That's right. I got the tats and piercings to prove it.

That explains why I was dumbfounded when Jake stole my heart after a confrontation regarding the railway I was sitting on then and now.

_He walked over to me and said, "Hey! Stranger girl, you can't sit there. These are _my_ railroads." _

_Gazing up at him, I laughed. "I don't see your name on them."_

"_Look closely," he stated, kneeling down and pointing to a spot by my hand. "It say's 'Jacob Black' right here."_

_After staring at his imprinted name for about a minute, I then asked, "How'd you do that? That's fucking awesome."_

_He smirked. "If I tell you how, you're gonna want to do it, too, and I can't have that, you see."_

_I laughed. "What's a girl gotta do to get a personal railroad around here?"_

"_You have to bring me a corpse," he said, seriously. "Once you bring it to me, I will show you how." I stood from the ground and dusted off my hands and shorts. "Fine," I simply stated, before walking away. _

_The next day, I walked up to him at the same spot and dangled a dead rat in front of him. _

_Raising his brow at me, he asked, "What's that?"_

"_My corpse, you dumbass," I retorted. "You didn't say what kind of corpse, so this counts."_

"_No, it doesn't, but holding a dead rat like that takes balls, so you earned your right to have your named engraved on my railroad." He stood and walked to the spot where I'd sat, taking out a lighter and a nail. "You want me use your name or a nickname?"_

"_No, my name's fine," I replied. "It's Leah Clearwater."_

"_Leah, huh?" he inquired. "That's a nice name."_

_I blushed and twisted my hands nervously as he knelt on the ground. "So, is Jacob Black your real name or your nickname?"_

"_You're gonna have to stick around to find out," he replied, smirking up at me._

Oh, and I did. Stick around and find out.


	7. Runaway

**Inspiration: bit(dot)ly(space)/(space)I9FyF0**

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><p><em><strong>Runaway<strong>_

_"I don't want you dating that boy, Isabella," Renee told me. "He's only going to knock you up and leave you."_

My mother said it a million times, but I never believed her. And she was wrong.

Well, only partly.

Edward and I are going to be parents, but not because we weren't careful.

I guess it was fate.

We used condoms.

I was on the pill in case we got caught up in the moment.

And I still got pregnant.

Maybe this is a test from God.

I don't know.

All I know is that I love my baby and that we'll do whatever it takes to make sure she is surrounded by love.

Just yesterday, we found out that our baby is gonna be a girl, and after hiding my pregnancy for almost four months, we finally dropped the bomb on our families.

It's why we're running away from Phoenix, Arizona to Forks, Washington, where my brother Emmett lives; he's the only one that was excited about our news when we called him.

Elizabeth, Edward's mother, said that we couldn't stay at her place after she lectured us about being irresponsible. Renee slapped me across the face as my father pulled out his gun and aimed it at Edward's chest.

"I knew you were a bad influence on my daughter," Charlie raged. "First it was the tattoos and now _this_? I should kill you for ruining my daughter's life, you little shit."

Edward didn't even flinch once while all of this happened. He simply held on to my hand, gripping it firmly in reassurance, just as he is doing now.

I look at our joined hands, at the meshing ink on our flesh as our fingers interlace, and I know that somehow everything will be okay.

It will, because Edward loves me just as intensely as I love him and our baby.


	8. Breakfast

_****_**Inspiration: bit(dot)ly(space)/(space)IXF2FA**

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><p><em><strong>Breakfast<strong>_

"Lizzy, are you ready? Breakfast is nearly done!" Edward exclaimed, turning over the grilled-cheese sandwich he was preparing on his stove.

His six-year-old daughter walked out of her room and into the hallway on the second floor. She leaned against the banister which led to a stairway, and said, "Almost, I'll be down in a second."

Edward finished preparing Lizzy's sandwich and put it on a plate; he took it and set it on her place mat along with a glass of milk.

Just then, she walked into the kitchen with her backpack in hand and sat at the table.

"Did you pack all your stuff, sweetheart?" he asked, taking her backpack while looking at a satchel she draped over her chair.

"Yup," she replied. "I even packed my toothbrush 'cause I don't like the one I have at Mom's."

"Elizabeth, how many times have I told you not to take things with you when you visit your mother over the weekend?" he scolded her. "You always forget to bring them back on Monday."

She rolled her eyes behind her black, thick-rimmed glasses and said, "You could always go get my toothbrush if I forget it, you know?"

Edward smirked crookedly as he became aware of his daughter's intentions: she was trying to get him and Bella back together.

Sometimes he forgot that he was the father of a precocious child, therefore, he underestimated her. Lizzy's attempts to reconcile her parents were futile, though, since Edward couldn't forgive Bella for leaving him and Lizzy when she was just two years old.

He was conscious that it was because their economic situation was deplorable, but it still didn't justify her departure. They both knew it would be difficult to sustain a family when Bella got pregnant during their first year in college, but they agreed to try and moved in together.

Edward began working part time at a tattoo shop, and after Lizzy was born, Bella worked as a waitress at a local diner. They made enough money to go to school, pay their bills and Lizzy's childcare, so Bella's departure was unexpected.

She just left one day and didn't fight for Lizzy's custody when Edward's attorney summoned her a year later, but she did ask to have visitation rights during the weekend. Edward didn't want to see her, so he allowed Bella to pick Lizzy up from day care and drop her off there after the weekend.

They continued the same routine to this day, yet so much had changed. Edward was a different man compared to the one that Bella had fallen in love with; not only was he marked by the ink he wore on his skin, but also by the scars that had tainted his heart.

As for Bella, he didn't know much about her, only that she graduated and worked at an art gallery as a fine art marketer. Although he knew that she loved their daughter, and that's what really mattered to him.

Lizzy finished her breakfast and stood from the table, grabbing her dishes and placing them on the sink. She looked out the window and noticed that a few of her classmates were at the bus stop already.

"I need to get going or I'm going to miss the bus, Dad," she told Edward.

"Okay, let's get your stuff," he said, walking over to the table to grab her satchel and her backpack. They stood at their doorway as Edward leaned down in front of Lizzy and put her satchel and her backpack on.

After placing a kiss on her forehead, he said, "Call me if you need anything, okay? Love you, baby girl."

"Okay, Daddy. Love you, too," she replied, lifting up on her tiptoes and placing a smoochy kiss on his cheek before walking out the door.


End file.
